


I Loved, I Loved, and I Lost You

by QueenoftheHobbits



Category: Dunkirk (2017)
Genre: Character Death, F/M, Gen, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Grief, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2018-12-15
Packaged: 2019-09-19 17:56:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17006397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenoftheHobbits/pseuds/QueenoftheHobbits
Summary: Summary/Request: I was listening to Hurts like Hell by Fleurie and...angst happened: Basically readers experience of grief.Notes: As usual when there’s not specifics in the pairing section: this is a gender neutral reader.





	I Loved, I Loved, and I Lost You

He died bravely. We’re sorry. Our condolences. Alex. Phrases in a little letter sent through your door, supposed to console you, supposed to inform you of his death. But it didn’t console. It didn’t make any of this any easier. 

You’d loved him with all your heart, you’d felt it deep in your chest every day you woke up. The ache that missed him, the ache of affection, the ache of him. Now the ache was for him, for it to be a mistake, for them to write another letter letting you know that they had made a grave error, that he was really still alive. What made it worse was that the war had just ended in Europe. That had he stayed alive a few more weeks...he’d be on his way home to you. 6 years of war and he’d nearly made it home for good. But nearly wasn’t good enough. 

It felt like there was a hole in your chest where he used to be, a hole that’s begging to have him back, begging for him to fill it again. You couldn’t even repatriate his body. They wouldn’t allow it because no one was allowed, just like in the Great War. He was going to stay in France and you weren’t going to be able to mourn him properly. You weren’t going to be able to regularly visit his grave, place sunflowers on his grave, talk to him, let him know that you miss him, that you loved him. That he was the key to your lock. The handle on your door. He was a vital part of you. 

It hurt so much. Hurt so much that you had to force yourself to eat, to get out of bed, to wash, to clean your clothes, to go to your work. You finally understood what so many people had said about the pain, about the grief. You’d never really understood how crippling it could be before Alex, before that letter. Your mother knew it rather well having lost her only brother in the Great War. Having never been able to get his body home. Having to travel simply to say goodbye. 

“Are you going to be okay on your own, darling?” You look up at her now from your seat, cold tea in front of you. You know she understands, that its empathy not pity that you see. She knows exactly what its like to lose someone that you love, that is a staple of your life. 

“No...no.” The tears fall, like they always fall. Ugly, heavy, gasping. Whoever said crying was beautiful was wrong. Crying out for the one person you’ll never get back, crying with everything in you, that was ugly, it was gritty, it was dirty. It was pure hurt, pure pain. 

She wraps her arms around you like she used to do when you were child and you fall into them, sobbing against her dress. You know that she understands, you know that this is a position she has been in before...but you don’t know how you’ll move past this. How do you live a life without the one person you were supposed to build that life with? The one person you wanted to build your life with?

“I just want him back...I just want him back. It’s not fair! It...”

“I know, darling, I know.”


End file.
